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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434201">Under the full moon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchsoda/pseuds/Frenchsoda'>Frenchsoda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff, Kind of a sports AU?, Snowboarder!Yang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:22:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,951</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434201</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchsoda/pseuds/Frenchsoda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s a pro, Blake learns, here to shoot a short film for a sports clothing company. And Blake gets why she’s been cast. Yang isn’t just an extremely talented snowboarder. She’s also hot. Incredibly hot. And fun. And genuine. The kind of girl you want to watch a short film about. The kind of girl whose smile melts hearts faster than fire melts snow. Whose eyes are so kind, and yet bearing an edge, a distant warning. Don’t get too close or you’ll burn.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>174</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Under the full moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy holidays everyone! This is my secret santa gift for the amazingly talented <a href="https://whisperingdrawings.tumblr.com">Whisper</a>! &lt;3</p><p>And to all of you who keep saying I can't write a non smutty fic: HERE IT IS.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They shouldn’t be there. None of them should. They should be back home, reading or laughing or dancing in front of an open fire, hanging Christmas decorations on the tree, talking about what’s for dinner. They should be with their family. </p><p>Blake looks at the ski slopes stretching in front of her. They run high and far, a tangle of smooth hills and sharp peaks covered with snow, shining brightly under the fierce sunlight. It’s gorgeous, and she should feel lucky. Because she <em>is</em> with her family. The one she chose, the one she can’t function without. She’s with Weiss, Ilia, and Sun, with her closest friends. She’s with her own kind, people with shattered families or no family at all, people who were there for her when she needed them the most. Still. They shouldn’t be here, trying to make the most of their broken homes.</p><p>Her fingers tighten around her knee and she barely feels it through the ski suit. </p><p>“Here.”</p><p>She looks up, surprised. A girl stands next to her, holding a large paper cup in one hand, offering another one to Blake with the other. Half of her face is covered by her goggles and Blake can only see her wide grin, her sharp jawline, her tanned skin. Long golden hair flows from her yellow helmet in gentle waves. It shines as much as the snow. </p><p>“You’ve been sitting there alone for an hour,” the stranger adds. “I figured you might need a bit of warmth.”</p><p>“Oh.” A little stunned, Blake reaches for the cup and grabs it. </p><p>“It’s hot chocolate.”</p><p>“Thank you, so much. Um…”</p><p>“Yang.”</p><p>Blake smiles. “Yang,” she repeats. She likes that name. She raises her cup to the girl still standing at her side. “I’m Blake.” They both take a sip, and the hot, syrupy liquid burns Blake’s throat. </p><p>“Alright, Blake. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t freezing to death. I’ll see you around!”</p><p>“I hope so. I owe you one!”</p><p>Yang walks away and is soon greeted by three men carrying heavy filming equipment. Blake watches from afar, the smallest smile on her lips, and suddenly she can’t remember why she felt burdened for the past hour.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>For the next three days, all she sees is Yang. Waiting for coffee, talking with her filming crew, hurtling down black tracks with so much ease and grace it just seems like a long, smooth dance on white powder. </p><p>She’s a pro, Blake learns, here to shoot a short film for a sports clothing company. And Blake gets why she’s been cast. Yang isn’t just an extremely talented snowboarder. She’s also hot. Incredibly hot. And fun. And genuine. The kind of girl you want to watch a short film about. The kind of girl whose smile melts hearts faster than fire melts snow. Whose eyes are so kind, and yet bearing an edge, a distant warning. Don’t get too close or you’ll burn.</p><p>Yang laughs a lot. And it’s the most bewitching laugh Blake has ever heard in her life. Weiss roasts her every chance she gets for being so completely gay over a girl she talked to five times at most, but Blake can’t help it. She just can’t. She feels pulled toward Yang, so intrigued by her. It’s not just because of her physique, contrary to what Weiss thinks. It’s because of the hot chocolate. Because of the gentleness of that simple gesture. Because, the few times they talked, Blake felt at ease, without the need to try, to hide, to run. And that’s a strange feeling, really. One that leaves her slightly lightheaded when she dares thinking about it too hard.</p><p>“Ugh, Blake, would you please stop that?”</p><p>She doesn’t even bother to look back at Weiss, who’s once more pestering her for absolutely no valid reason.</p><p>“Stop what?”</p><p>“Watching her like that! You’re so obvious you might as well just give her your room key.”</p><p>This time, Blake makes the tremendous effort to tear her gaze away from Yang’s silhouette and meets Weiss’s haughty stare. </p><p>“Just, go talk to her,” Weiss grumbles. “Tell her you’re interested, ask her out, sing her a song, I don’t care, but <em>please</em>, I beg of you, get it out of your system!”</p><p>Blake rolls her eyes. “You’re exaggerating. I’m just watching her once in a while, there’s nothing wrong with that.”</p><p>“Except it’s not once in a while, you’re watching her even when you’re skiing,” Sun intervenes while sitting at the table with a plate full of waffles. They decided to eat outside, and to enjoy the cold air’s bite as well as the warm sun’s comfort.</p><p>“And you literally crashed into me this morning,” Ilia adds as she settles next to Sun, a sandwich in her hand.</p><p>“Yeah!” Sun shouts. “You could have killed her!”</p><p>Blake rolls her eyes once more, the smallest smile on her lips. “You guys are always so dramatic. Ilia is fine, look at her. Strong as ever!”</p><p>“I have a huge bruise, you know?”</p><p>“What? Where? Show me!”</p><p>“Sun, don’t ask her to take her clothes off!”</p><p>“I didn’t mean it like<em> that</em>!”</p><p>Blake barely registers Weiss’s scolding and Sun’s false offended gasp. She’s looking at Yang again, and this time the snowboarder notices her and waves at her. Oh, she looks dashing, with her snowboard tucked under her arm and her goggles set on her helmet. Confident, skilled, happy. She looks like she’s exactly where she wants to be, and maybe that’s why Blake’s heart sinks whenever she catches a glimpse of blonde hair on the white tracks. Because Yang is her complete opposite, and opposites attract. Right? Or maybe it’s because Yang feels so out of reach, surfing with ease on the most dangerous tracks, smiling brightly no matter the risks, where Blake can barely think about home without suffocating. Maybe it’s because she is what Blake longs to be. Strong, independent. Honest. And coming over here. Shit, oh, shit. Was she staring too much? She was, wasn’t she? Blake suddenly finds a keen interest in Sun and Weiss’s banter, but soon enough Yang is standing there, <em>just there</em>, by her side, her smile as blinding as the sun above her.</p><p>“Hey there!”</p><p>Sun chokes on his waffle, Ilia slaps his back and, surprisingly enough, Weiss is the only one who manages to give back a decent greeting, a polite <em>hello </em>that even Blake can’t say, because <em>she was staring too much and now Yang is here</em>. Yang locks eyes with her, and heat flows in Blake’s body from the tip of her ears to the tip of her fingers. It’s not the first time Yang randomly came to talk to her. They had a few conversations before, all initiated by the snowboarder, but Blake never thought much of it. Yang is just outgoing. She already befriended half of the ski resort, and Blake was in no way an exception.  </p><p>“We’re having a little party tonight in the common room to celebrate wrapping the shooting. You should join, all of you!”</p><p>“We’ll be there!” Sun almost yells, and where is that waffle when you need it, really. Because Blake <em>hates</em> parties. Or, to be more accurate, she hates parties where she doesn’t know at least eight persons out of ten. Socialization is not her strong suit, and she doesn’t need Yang to know that. But then again, they finished filming today. Which means Yang will leave soon. Tomorrow morning, probably, to be home to celebrate Christmas Eve. And that? That sucks. So, maybe tonight isn’t such a bad idea after all. Maybe Blake could work up some courage and tell her <em>Hey, I like you, do you think I could get your number? </em>What does she have to lose after all?</p><p>Blake smiles with delicacy and looks back at Yang. “You can count on us.” And Yang looks so pleased at that very moment, lilac eyes sparkling with a new fire, that it warms up Blake’s whole body. Anyone would be a fool to turn this girl down. And Blake would be a fool to not at least try to ask her out tonight.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>As predicted, half of the ski resort is there. Yang navigates from one group to another, a kind word or a terrible pun on her lips every time, and, truly, she’s all anyone can see. Blake’s numerous attempts to not stare have all met with failure, but Yang is too busy with everyone else to notice.</p><p>Eventually, Blake stops looking for an opportunity to meet her alone; Yang is always surrounded by people, friends, coworkers, admirers, and Blake feels discouraged already at the thought of making her way through strangers to talk to her.</p><p>She does manage to speak with a few people from the filming crew, with crazy stories to share, and overall she has a good time, trying hard to ignore the low disappointment brewing up in her stomach. </p><p>She’s alone by the window, scrolling through the last messages—dry, cold—from her parents, when she feels a presence next to her.</p><p>“So.”</p><p>Blake looks up and meets Yang’s shiny gaze. She doesn’t start, she doesn’t blush, she just offers a simple smile and hopes she looks cool and composed. Yang leans against the wall, a glass full of sangria in her hand. She looks perfectly sober, even though the party started a few hours ago. There’s a horizontal line crossing her face, tanned skin underneath, proof of all the hours spent under the sun and above the snow.</p><p>“What are you doing here, during the holidays, without your family?” </p><p>Straight to the knotty questions, of course. But Blake isn’t ready for that discussion yet. She’s not ready to talk about Sun and Ilia barely remembering their parents, about Weiss getting disowned by her father a few weeks ago, about herself tearing her family apart because of a boy, a mistake, someone she trusted and who turned her against everything she believed in in so little time she can’t even trust herself anymore. She doesn’t want to think about it right now. Because if she does, she’ll remember why she shouldn’t look at Yang like this. She shouldn’t want, she shouldn’t hope. She doesn’t deserve to try, but tonight she wants to pretend she does. </p><p>“I am with my family,” Blake gracefully replies. Her gaze lingers on Sun, flitting from one new person to the next, on Ilia, who hasn’t left the bar since they entered the common room, and on Weiss, who’s wrapped into a heated conversation with two members of Yang’s crew. And it’s not a lie, not really. Her smile turns warm. She’s not alone, and that’s the best gift she could hope for this year. “What about you? Are you going back home for Christmas Eve?”</p><p>Yang takes a second too long to answer. She’s looking at Blake, an undecipherable glow in the depth of her lilac eyes, and Blake’s stomach tightens in the best way possible.</p><p>“No, I’m coming back the next day. I’ll spend Christmas with my dad and my little sister, but there’s something I want to do first tomorrow. Here.”</p><p>“How enigmatic,” Blake teases.</p><p>Yang smiles. It’s not her usual playful smirk, but something almost gentler. It makes Blake impossibly curious, and she tries to play it cool, not to ask, not to push, not to show Yang how much she <em>cares</em> about everything Yang does, says, thinks, feels. <em>You’ve known her for three days. Only three days.</em></p><p>“Actually,” Yang murmurs, the low vibration of her voice igniting a small fire in Blake’s lungs and stomach, “I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”</p><p>Oh, she sure knows how to get Blake’s undivided attention.</p><p>“What surprise?”</p><p>“You’ll see. That is, if you’re willing to share some of your evening with me tomorrow.”</p><p>Blake is so stunned she gapes a little. Is Yang actually asking her to spend <em>Christmas Eve</em> with her?</p><p>“Sure,” she blurts.</p><p>Yang’s smile grows, whimsical once more, and god she’s gorgeous, lips full, skin smooth, eyes bright. </p><p>“Let’s meet in front of the common room at midnight.”</p><p>“Alright. I’ll be there.”</p><p>Yang raises her glass—still full—to her, before walking away with one last, intense, unreadable gaze. Only once the snowboarder is out of sight, hidden by a group of people greeting her with wild cheers, does Blake release the hot breath she held without realizing.</p><p>The rest of the night passes in a blur. All she can think about is Yang, and whether or not she has a date with her on Christmas Eve. When Blake and her friends say their goodbyes before going to sleep, Yang gently grabs her wrist by the front door. </p><p>“Don’t forget your gear.”</p><p>And on that note, she disappears once more, leaving Blake flustered, eager, and slightly confused.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>They celebrate Christmas Eve at a little restaurant in a town nearby. It’s cozy and warm, the food tastes delicious, and the chef even comes to greet them with a proud smile. Weiss heaps him with crafted praises, a reminder of how she used to visit high-class restaurants on a weekly basis before her father crossed her off the will for having values. They laugh and argue and share food, stories and knowing looks, and Blake wonders once more, as she always does, how she got lucky enough to end up with such different and amazing people, all caring in their own way.</p><p>They get back to the hotel a bit before midnight. “Just in time for your date!” Sun teases. Ilia smacks him behind the head, Weiss smirks and Blake ignores them. As much as she enjoyed Christmas Eve with her friends tonight, her thoughts kept circling back to a devilish smile and a lilac gaze. She’s excited and hopeful. Tomorrow, Yang leaves. And so much can happen between now and then.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Alone in her room, she slips out of her dress. That’s too bad. She looked damn good in her black and silver gown, and she wishes Yang could see her like that. But, well, who cares? She’s about to spend the night of Christmas with the most gorgeous girl on Earth, and if she has to cover herself from head to toe in her ski suit for that, so be it.</p><p>Yang is already there when she arrives, ski mask and helmet on, her snowboard planted in the snow. Everything is dark past the common room’s front steps, aside from a few illuminated windows in the nearby cabins, and suddenly, it hits Blake. What the fuck are they doing here, all geared up in the middle of the night?</p><p>“Are you planning to murder me and to make it look like a ski accident?” she asks when she reaches her.</p><p>Yang laughs. The night doesn’t seem so dark anymore. </p><p>“Who knows? It’s a risk you’ll have to take!” She grabs her snowboard. “You ready?”</p><p>“I guess,” Blake shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant and yet still smiling, because this is exciting, because she’s with Yang, because she’s starting to remember how much she loves adventures, and Yang seems like the kind of girl who can turn anything into an epic quest. </p><p>She follows her in the snow. They walk away from the common room and make their way to the ski lifts, and only then does Blake realize they’re working.</p><p>“They’re running? At this hour?” </p><p>She doesn’t see her eyes, but Yang’s smile turns arrogant under the now distant lights. Oh, it’s a good look on her.</p><p>“They turned it on for me.”</p><p>“You’re that famous, huh.”</p><p>Yang doesn’t answer, only hums happily. Blake knows she’s famous. She looked her up the second she got her full name. Yang Xiao Long won several national medals and is on her way to the Olympic games next winter, and there’s not a professional snowboarder or enthusiast in the world who doesn’t know her name.</p><p>“Come on!” </p><p>Yang gets ready to hop on the next chairlift, and soon enough they both end up on the lift, their thighs brushing against each other under the thick fabric of their suit.</p><p>“Yang, what are we doing?”</p><p>“You’ll see!”</p><p>“I’m not skiing in the dark!”</p><p>“Just trust me, you woman of little faith.”</p><p>Blake chuckles. She does trust Yang. She doesn’t know why. She met her not even a week ago, and her last experience with Adam should have taught her to be wary of charming, magnetic people. But no. Not with Yang. She could take her to the tallest mountain, Blake would follow. Because it’s <em>fun</em>. Liberating. Thrilling. Because Yang is not trying to control her. Just to take her along.</p><p>They settle in an easy silence, faces turned toward the ski slopes flowing under their feet. The more they draw away from the resort, the clearer the view gets. Blake thought they’d drown in a thick darkness, far away from any kind of artificial lights, but she couldn’t be more wrong. The night is bright. So bright. Full moon painting the sky in deep blue and pale silver, snow glimmering like diamond powder, immaculate. Blake’s heart tightens. She feels small, all of a sudden, and somehow it’s a comforting thought.</p><p>They stay on the lift until the end of the cable. Yang jumps in the snow, followed by Blake, but instead of getting ready for the descent, she starts climbing up. Blake doesn’t ask, doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t fear. She walks in Yang’s footprints and listens to the sound of their steps. It’s so peaceful. Otherworldly, even. After a while, she can’t even see the resort’s lights below. It’s just the two of them, walking in a white vastness. The snow is untouched, the air cold and pure. She can hear Yang’s breath, slow, deep. She can see it too, sometimes, when Yang turns her head to admire the view and steam escapes her lips.</p><p>They walk on a ridge, splendid scenery all around them, and Blake loses track of time. She feels so little, again. One tiny person in an immense universe. She’s lucky. So lucky. To be here. To be alive. To be able to meet people like Yang, to have friends whom she can call a family. To have a family, too. Parents who care. Parents who only wanted the best for her. Who warned her about Adam, who were right about Adam. The higher she and Yang climb, the stronger her resolve becomes. Tomorrow, she’ll call her parents. She’ll apologize. I shouldn’t have trusted him. I shouldn’t have said all those things to you. I should be home with you for Christmas. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.</p><p>Yang stops at the highest point of the ridge. She sets her snowboard on the ground and lifts her goggles on her helmet. Under the moonlight, her eyes take a metallic color, purple melted in steel. Her lips curl into the softest smile. Everything in Blake shatters. Because right now, right here, under the full moon, Yang is the most beautiful being she ever laid her eyes on, and she can’t do anything but stare, fingers shaking in her gloves, heart shaking in her chest.</p><p>“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, and she doesn’t regret it, she doesn’t shy away like she’d normally do, because she can’t keep it to herself, she can’t contain such a vibrant truth. She needs Yang to know.</p><p>Yang’s smile stretches. Just a little. Enough to become knowing without losing its tenderness. She takes two steps forward, gently grabs the skis Blake tugged under her arm and sets them on the snow, next to her snowboard.</p><p>“I’ve been watching you for a while, you know?” she murmurs. Maybe she doesn’t want to disturb the mountain’s peace. Maybe her words are just for the two of them to hear. “You’re a terrific skier. And this—” She turns toward the slope spreading at their feet. “This will be easy for you.” She takes Blake’s hand in hers. There’s no direct touch, no warmth, no softness of the skin, all blocked by their gloves. And yet Blake’s heart throbs so intensely it could break her chest.</p><p>“Can we see each other again?” is all Blake manages to say.</p><p>Yang grins. Blake craves to kiss her. She feels like Yang wouldn’t mind.</p><p>“I’ll answer that once we reach the resort.”</p><p>Yang winks at her, sets her goggles on her face and slides her feet into her snowboard. Blake hastily clips her boots into her skis. She wants this so badly. Yang’s answer. Skiing under the moonlight. Taking that risk, for nobody else but herself.</p><p>So, when Yang says “Ready?”, she nods. And when Yang jumps on the slope and starts her descent, she follows without the slightest hesitation.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Everything is cold, and fast, and bright, and exhilarating. An icy wind whips her face. There’s nothing but the sound of her skis and Yang’s snowboard turning the snow upside down. It fills the air with a strange rhythm, unsteady and yet hypnotic. There’s nothing else in this world but them.</p><p>Yang is just there. A few meters in front of her. She raises clouds of snow every time she takes a hard turn, and it paints the horizon in shining silver. Blake tries to keep up. She succeeds, even. She knows Yang isn’t going at full speed for her sake, and she doesn’t care. She’s having fun. Yang is too.</p><p>They reach the resort faster than she’d like. They both stop with a rough rotation at the bottom of the slope, and Yang raises her fists to the sky as a sign of victory. Blake laughs. Adrenaline is still flowing through her veins, and she feels like she could conquer the world right now.</p><p>They both unclip their skis and snowboard. Yang runs toward her, the biggest smile on her face, and she throws her helmet and goggles on the ground.</p><p>“God, Blake! That was amazing! I can’t believe we just did this. I’ve always wanted to ski under the full moon, to think I got to do it on Christmas!” Her smile softens. “And with you.”</p><p>Blake takes her own helmet and goggles off. Her heart thumps in her ears, because of the thrill, the skiing, Yang. She looks at her, and she knows exactly what she wants.</p><p>“Can we see each other again?” she asks once more, but this time her voice doesn’t waver. This time, she takes a step forward and closes the remaining distance between her and Yang. This time, she doesn’t wait for an answer. “I want to get to know you.” She takes her gloves off and the cold air bites her skin. She doesn’t care. “I want to take you on a date.” She slides her fingers in Yang’s hair, behind her ear. Yang stares at her, stunned, cheeks red from the effort, or maybe because Blake is so close. “I want to take you home.” Her index brushes the tip of Yang’s ear. It’s burning.</p><p>“Yes,” Yang breathes. “To all of that.”</p><p>It’s all Blake needs. She grabs Yang by the collar of her ski suit, pulls her close and presses their lips together. She loves it. All of it. This cold skin against hers, soothing the new fire raging within. The way Yang sighs against her lips, as if she’s wanted this for too long. The way she wraps her arms around Blake’s waist to draw her impossibly closer. The way they fit. The way Blake feels.</p><p>Yang breaks the kiss but doesn’t move back. Her mouth lingers a breath away from Blake’s. She’s smiling.</p><p>“By the way,” she whispers, “merry Christmas.”</p><p>Blake chuckles. “Best Christmas ever,” she murmurs, and she pulls Yang into another heated kiss.</p>
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